


better days

by katierosefun



Series: Whumptober [Clone Wars] [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Obi-Wan Kenobi, Forced to knees, Gen, Held at Gunpoint, Injury, Manhandling, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Whump, Whipping, Whumptober 2020, Zyggeria arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26793181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierosefun/pseuds/katierosefun
Summary: This really wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him, Obi-Wan supposed, but he had seen better days. His body still felt sore from the last little fight he had gotten into back on Kiros, even if he had allowed most of those blows to himself. Right now, however, was a slightly different matter. For one, Obi-Wan certainly hadn’t asked to be caught by the Zyggerians, and he certainly hadn’t planned on one of the Zyggerians recognizing him now, but—well. Again, Obi-Wan had seen better days.[or: Zyggeria from Obi-Wan's point of view.]
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Series: Whumptober [Clone Wars] [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1504868
Comments: 6
Kudos: 119





	better days

This really wasn’t the _worst_ thing that could happen to him, Obi-Wan supposed, but he had seen better days. His body still felt sore from the last little fight he had gotten into back on Kiros, even if he had allowed most of those blows to himself. Right now, however, was a slightly different matter. For one, Obi-Wan certainly hadn’t _asked_ to be caught by the Zyggerians, and he certainly hadn’t planned on one of the Zyggerians recognizing him now, but—well. Again, Obi-Wan had seen better days. 

“Move, Jedi scum,” the Zyggerian behind him growled now. Not the same one who had recognized Obi-Wan before, but a different slaver. Obi-Wan felt the gun between his shoulder blades, knew to move forward, even if every part of his body ached and protested at even the idea of movement. 

Up ahead, Governor Roshti didn’t look much better. His back was exposed with cuts that were either still bleeding or just barely scabbing over. The governor’s head was bowed, and though Obi-Wan couldn’t see the governor’s face now, he had the feeling Roshti looked the same as he had when Obi-Wan first found him. Or perhaps worse. 

Obi-Wan felt another burst of pain between his shoulder blades, and this time, he stumbled forward. He would have fallen forward if he hadn’t caught himself on time—but he heard the Zyggerians’ growl behind him and knew that if he didn’t move faster, then the next blow would come harder. 

Obi-Wan walked forward. He was limping, he realized, although he wasn’t sure where the limp came from. He didn’t remember injuring his leg at all, but then again, he had forgotten exactly where that Zyggerian had hit him back in the cell. Or maybe it was just Obi-Wan’s ribs that was impacting the way he walked now—yes, that could be it too, because a searing pain reached up as he took a breath even now. Obi-Wan blindly reached to grasp his side, but just as his hand wrapped around his middle, he felt another blow to the back. And this time, he did fall—he felt the coolness of the stone wall beside him, felt the scrape of stone against his cheek. _Ah. Another one_. 

“Keep _moving_ ,” one of the Zyggerians growled. A hand tugged Obi-Wan roughly back, shoved him back to the path. The ground swayed dangerously under Obi-Wan’s feet for a moment, and then he refocused in time to hear the grumble of doors opening in front of him—doors that he hadn’t noticed, he realized dully, and then there was a fierce light as he heard—

“My friends—my good friends—do not fear the Jedi…” A woman’s voice. _The queen_. 

Obi-Wan looked up, blinking back the harsh sunlight. He was fairly certain that was sunlight—he was fairly certain that not _too_ much time had passed since he had been discovered, but still, he was surprised at how bright everything was around him. Somewhere, a camera droid circled around him, and up above, Obi-Wan saw the glint and shine of armored Zyggerians, wealthy patrons and allies of the Zyggerians. He tried to search the balconies, tried to pinpoint where exactly the queen was—

“ _Up_ ,” the Zyggerian behind Obi-Wan hissed, and he found himself standing in front of a raised stage. He looked down, focused on the smudge of what looked suspiciously like dried blood on a corner of the step. 

_Up_ , Obi-Wan told himself, and he took the first few steps forward as the queen continued speaking above him.

 _Directly above_ , Obi-Wan realized, and he lifted his head again, even though the movement made his neck hurt. 

“Every Jedi has become a slave to the Republic,” the queen was saying now, and _aha_ —yes, there was the queen, her face cold and determined as she looked back down to the platform above. Obi-Wan blinked a few times. If the queen was up on the platform, then Anakin and Ahsoka and Rex—he watched as the queen stepped away from the balcony, disappeared briefly from sight. 

Obi-Wan, in the meanwhile, could only look around at the crowds above him. _So many people_ —he hadn’t realized there would be this many people who still attended slave auctions. His stomach twisted, and a nausea that had nothing to do with his own injuries crawled up his throat. He dropped his eyes away from the crowds and instead focused on another strange rust-colored stain on the stones. Whether that had been the result of an auction earlier that day or maybe even weeks, months ago, Obi-Wan didn’t know. 

He tore his eyes away from the edge of the platform, turned blindly towards something else to focus on, and then he turned completely around—and then he saw a blurring shape that looked suspiciously like—

A blow to Obi-Wan’s back forced him to his knees. He coughed once, tried to regain his breath as he felt the cold tip of the blaster at the back of his head. He lifted his hands, rested them at each side of his head and breathed in once. Again. _Again_. 

And all around him, Obi-Wan registered the dull shouts above him: “ _whip the Jedi! Whip the Jedi!_ ” 

_How barbaric_ , Obi-Wan managed to think. 

And behind him, Obi-Wan heard footsteps. Slow, deliberate, and yet— 

“Looks like I have to rescue you again, old man,” came Anakin’s voice. 

Obi-Wan let out a relieved breath as he re-focused on the ground before him. He closed his eyes briefly, opened them again as he turned his head slightly—just enough to let Anakin know that he had heard him. “I knew you’d have a back-up plan,” he said quietly. 

He heard a quiet laugh—really nothing more than a breath, but one that Obi-Wan had grown familiar with. 

And above them, Obi-Wan heard the queen speak again: “Prove to me you’re a slaver. _Swing_ that whip, or die beside him.” 

Obi-Wan tilted his head back to Anakin again. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just barely make out Anakin’s wry smile. 

“Well,” Anakin muttered, “those are some lousy options.” 

Obi-Wan agreed, though he could just turn his head back around and school his expression into one of weariness—back to the beathen Jedi, so obviously defeated in a planet of slavers. He held his breath and counted down the seconds until Anakin finally said, “You leave me no choice, Highness.” 

_Dramatic_ , Obi-Wan thought as the cheers around him swelled. He heard the crackle of the whip in Anakin’s hand, and then—

When the whip came crashing down on the Zyggerian beside him, Obi-Wan didn’t think. He rolled himself forward, shoved the Zyggerian off the platform. All around him, shouts and protests swelled, but Obi-Wan was already standing up, searching the balcony for the other Zyggerians. He heard a lightsaber activate, turned around in time for Anakin to toss him his own lightsaber. 

In a flash, both Obi-Wan and Anakin were hovering at the center of the platform, already deflecting blaster bolts that came down from the balconies. Obi-Wan looked up to see more blaster fire—not coming down at them, but coming from Rex, still clad in Zyggerian armor. Blaster fire, a cloud of smoke, and then Obi-Wan watched as Rex came hurling down to the ground with a Zyggerian. Obi-Wan started forward, but Rex was already scrambling to his feet. 

“Ahsoka!” Anakin shouted. “The queen!” 

Obi-Wan didn’t get to look up to see what Ahsoka was up to, though, because in the next moment, the doors opened, and Zyggerians were running forward, their whips already charged and glowing like lightning bolts even in the already-bright space. 

Obi-Wan leapt down from the platform, ignoring the pain that jolted up his side and his leg. He sidestepped the oncoming whip, lifted his saber to deflect another oncoming whip. But beside him, Obi-Wan saw Rex’s arm get caught in a whip, heard Rex’s shout of pain before he went down. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, refocused on the Zyggerians surrounding him. They _would_ get out of this—

Obi-Wan sidestepped, skittered back to avoid another whip. He set his saber down, twisted around to catch another whip—somewhere above him, he heard Anakin combatting the whips too, heard the slight whistle of his own whip in the air. He didn’t have to worry about Anakin, Obi-Wan knew, which he was relieved about, but all the same—

Obi-Wan tried to keep his steps light, _focus_ , he needed to _focus_ —

Obi-Wan slipped away from another whip. Turned, only this time to see Rex being dragged away by a pair of Zyggerians. 

That half-second of focusing on something besides the whips left Obi-Wan with feeling an electric shock go up his arm: fierce, burning, brutal. Obi-Wan dropped to his knees, gasped at the pain spreading up to his shoulder, and then he felt something cool wrap around his throat. At least, cool at first, and then that same wicked pain that _burned_ —

Obi-Wan let out a choked gasp, could barely feel anything else except that pain around his arm, his throat, that adding with everything else—

The world tilted dangerously under Obi-Wan. All around him, he heard more whistles and crackles of whips and smelled something burning, and he wasn’t sure if that was his own skin or the electricity or…

\--

Obi-Wan woke to a pain exploding at his head. He let out a half-gasp, half-cry, heard a low chuckle above him. He blinked his eyes open slowly, registered the darkness around him, and for a disorienting second, Obi-Wan wondered if he had been hit so hard as to lose his sight—but no, he could make out other faces in the dimness now. Rex, he found Rex easily, with his bruised face, and Governor Roshti, and some other Togrutas…

And then Obi-Wan was being pushed to the ground, and when his head hit the ground, he thought he would black out again. But he didn’t, and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure whether to feel grateful for that or not, because he heard that low laugh above him again. 

“No hope for you now, Jedi scum.” Obi-Wan’s chin was jerked up, and he found himself looking into the yellow eyes of another Zyggerian. The slaver bared his teeth into an ugly smile, and when Obi-Wan hit the ground again, he decided that perhaps Anakin and he should have prepared for another backup plan, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Whumptober day 3, 'My Way or the Highway'. I think I actually used all the subprompts this time ?? (manhandled, held at gunpoint, forced to their knees). 
> 
> (also, rewatching this particular scene last night...wow, the writers/animators really didn't hold back when it came to beating up Obi-Wan, did they?)
> 
> As always, comments/kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
